Under New Management
by Eule-II
Summary: This is my third fic, it is a sequel with an OC as the main character, as all of my previous fics have been. The Palais Garnier has a new manager, he's young and inexperienced but maybe he can handle the Opera Ghost...maybe. Not a Slash Fic
1. Chapter 1

Luc Richard was astounded. His uncle had told him that the Opera house was beautiful but his descriptions hadn't done it justice. The grand staircase before him rivaled anything one might find in a palace. The magnificent columns and arches gave the place a very royal sort of elegance. Luc wondered how a man could be the manager of such a place and not feel like a king. For the new twenty-three year-old manager of the Opera Populaire this was one of the most wondrous sights he'd ever seen. His moment of awe-struck revelation was interrupted by a loud cough.

"Ahem. Luc, my boy, are you going to stand around gawking or move your things into your uncle's old office?"

Luc turned to find an old and weary-looking Armand Moncharmin standing just a few feet behind him. Luc's uncle, Firmin Richard had retired nearly ten years ago, after the falling of the chandelier and the fire that nearly burned down half of the opera house he simply couldn't handle the job any longer. Moncharmin had been doing the job alone. Now he felt that it was his turn to retire and let someone younger and healthier deal with all the mess that came with running this particular opera house. Moncharmin felt a little guilty, the boy had no idea what he was getting into. Everyone seemed to think that with the announcement of the death of Erik in the papers ten years prior that all of the trouble the Phantom had cause was over with. This was far from the case although Moncharmin and the rest of the staff had done their best to keep it hidden from the public. This lad would have his hands full, no doubt but by now Moncharmin was ready to retire and if that meant suckering a naive boy into the job, so be it. Luc was totally enamored with the opera house, thanks largely to Firmin's influence. Surely he couldn't be frightened away by the ghost of a ghost.

Luc allowed Moncharmin to lead him to his new office. He tried to appear cool and composed but inside he was absolutely giddy. When he'd heard there was an opening for manager he'd been afraid that he'd lose the job to older and more qualified people, oddly enough there had been little competition for the post. It seemed that people were still afraid of the Opera Ghost even so he was most certainly gone. Luc had heard about the death of Erik, as far as he was concerned that was evidence enough that there was no haunting to be afraid of.

...

Settling in to his new position was surprisingly easy for Luc, The staff was incredibly helpful and Moncharmin was the most informative of the lot. It was almost suspicious. After about an hour of set up Moncharmin left and Luc sat down to do the book-keeping. Most of the months expenses had already been logged so there wasn't much to do but he didn't want to waste time on his first night. As he turned a few pages in the ledger he found a letter wedged inside of it. The letter was dressed to him and it bore a red, skull shaped wax seal. Curious as to the nature of this strange find, Luc opened it.

_To my new manager, Mr. Luc Richard_

_It has come to my attention that your predecessor has not informed you of my existence. It is hardly a surprise as he has done everything in his power for the past five years now to keep me his little secret, his literal "skeleton in the closet", if you will. So I'm making myself known. I am the ghost who haunts this opera house, You may have heard of me, from your uncle, the long retired Firmin Richard. He and his partner were under the impression for some time that because I was dead I no longer posed any threat to them. However I belong to this opera house, my soul is here and here it shall remain for all time. But I digress, what I want from you is simple. I have only two requests and they are as follows._

_You will keep box five empty for my personal use._

_You will leave 20,000 francs a month for me to collect in box five. This is my salary, and you will pay it or you'll live to regret not paying it. It's your decision._

_With that in mind I welcome you to the Palais Garnier,_

_Yours Truly_

_O.G_

Luc blinked at the letter, he wasn't sure what to make of this. Yes he'd heard about the Phantom of The Opera, but he was dead. There was no way this letter could be his doing. _It must be a joke_, he decided. One of the staff was trying to spook him on his first day. That had to be it. Moncharmin would have told him if there was a ghost haunting this opera house. Well who ever had done it had done their research, they certainly seemed to know a lot about him. With a snort he crumpled the paper and threw it into the rubbish bin. Opera Ghost...as if that would work on him.

From his secluded place in the secret passage a masked figure studied the lad. He was young, barely into his twenties by the look of him. Tall, with dark brown hair and a thin frame. He sported a thin goatee and mustache on his angular face. This boy probably had no trouble picking up women from the look of him. When Luc crumpled up the paper and threw it away the man frowned under his mask. Clearly the young man didn't believe in ghosts...well, that could be fixed.

Without a sound the Opera Ghost turned and fled down the dark passage into the underground lair. It was time the Phantom went public again, no more hiding and quietly extorting Francs from a sickly old manager. It was time for an exposition, and the reappearance of the Phantom after ten years had to be more than just a little jump scare to rattle the nerves of a wet behind the ears, little boy. If the Phantom was going to come back he was going to make a grand entrance! Something that would be talked about for years to come. The curtain would rise on this young man but when it came time for the final bow all eyes would be on the Phantom and the Phantom alone!

...

_Hello, hello, I'm Enos, this is fic number three for me and like all my other fics it's a sequel featuring an OC as the main character. That's going to be the norm for me, I don't really like using someone elses characters as the main, nor do I like making them(the original author's characters) act out of character, so don't be looking for weird or unlikely pairings in future works. As it is easier to write the characters of other people as they are perceived by my character I probably won't switch views from my mains as often as I did in my first fic on this site. _

_To all the people who just came because they are looking for a pairing between the male OC and the Phantom...Get out. It won't happen, let me save you the disappointment and let you know that it's not going to happen. Although romance of some kind may not be out of the question later when I introduce more characters...maybe.  
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_Everyone not looking for that pairing, enjoy the story.  
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	2. Chapter 2

The next day Luc called the staff to discuss the schedule for the new season, and introduce the new singer he'd chosen for the female lead in the latest production. He knew that most of the older members were skeptical about his abilities to manage the Opera Populaire he intended to prove to them that he had it in him to do the job. Although, he'd already hit his first snag, there was no leading female soprano among the very small cast that remained at the opera. A good number of cast members had left upon hearing that Moncharmin was retiring and as business had dropped greatly over the last decade, many had gone to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Luc had thought that it might help his career to bring the former soprano, Christine Daae, back as the female lead, Marguerite, for the upcoming month's production of _Faust_. Daae had played the role before and he had hoped that she would be willing to return after her ten year absence from the theater. She had blatantly refused, Luc hadn't really understood why, she wasn't very old, only around thirty or so, and that put her at fifteen years the junior of the still highly active _La Carlotta_. He had so wanted to be the manager that brought the Opera back to it's past glory. After the incident with the Phantom and Christine Daae's departure the Palais Garnier had never had the same kind of business again. He'd been unable to get Christine Daae, but he had managed to hire a young Dutch singer named Klara Hauer, although the girl was all but unknown Luc had been amazed by not only her voice, but her versatility on the stage and her skill as an actress. While he understood that opera was all about the music and the voice Luc felt that there was no need to sacrifice a good performance on vocal talent alone. Although it seemed a reckless move, hiring an unknown when he was still new, Luc's instincts had told him it was the right move. Klara had the charm and appeal to back up her remarkable voice and he had complete confidence in her ability to rise to stardom in his Opera House.

The staff gathered around Luc as he made his way across the lavish red and gold themed auditorium to the front of the stage, some of them watched him with interest, others with consternation and the rest appeared bored. Among the disinterested was the aged Madame Giry with her daughter Meg, Madame Giry had seen managers come and go and it was unlikely this one would be much different. He was young, the only reason he had this job was because his uncle had been one of the previous managers. She didn't have high expectations and she sat in one of the front row seats idly inspecting the head of her cane. She didn't even raise an eyebrow when Luc started to speak.

"Thank you all for being here. As you've probably heard I have been unsuccessful in convincing Christine Daae to return to the Opera, but, I have found a soprano that I believe will be suitable," said Luc, "Allow me to present Mademoiselle Klara Hauer."

The gathered crowed stirred in mild interest as a beautiful young woman crossed the stage to stand before them. She looked like an angel, her long golden hair fell to her waist in loose curls, her pale face was delicate with a narrow chin and softly pronounced cheekbones. She stared serenely back at them with liquid brown eyes framed by silky golden lashes. A common thought ran through the minds of the staff members, she was truly very beautiful...but could she sing? It was the conductor, Monsieur Reyer, who voiced the question aloud.

Luc smiled and gestured to Klara, "If you will, Mademoiselle," he said.

Klara gave a small nod of her head and began to sing a few lines from Marguerite's aria from the third act.

_Ah, je ris de me voir_

_si belle en ce miroir,_

_Est-ce vous, Marguerite, est-ce vous?_

_Répondez-moi, réponds-moi,_

_Réponds, réponds vite!_

_Non Non! ce n'est plus toi!_

_No. .. non, ce n'est plus ton visage;_

_C'est la fille d'un roi .._

The staff looked from Klara to each other, that had been impressive. Her voice was clear, sweet, and it had a strength that many previous sopranos' had lacked. While it was not as grand or splendid as the golden tones of Christine Daae it was a beautiful voice in its own right. There was a collective murmur of assertion the Luc took as the staff's general approval of his decision, so far so good, there was just one last order of business left.

"As Mademoiselle Hauer is new to Paris and currently unknown I've decided that in three weeks time we will host a gala to mark her debut as Marguerite in next month's production of _Faust_."

"Are you certain that's wise Monsieur?" said madame Giry idly twirling her cane between her long slightly crooked fingers. Amongst the curious and eager cast and crew members, who had been very impressed with Klara, the thin, ancient, woman in black looked merely bored, "This opera house is not all that is appears to be and it's unwise to tempt fate,"

"What on earth do you mean by that? What harm could possible come from hosting a simple gala?" demanded Luc.

"Surely Monsieur Moncharmin told you of the Opera Ghost?" said Monsieur Reyer chewing his lip anxiously.

"Oh, I see what's going on here," Luc's brow furrowed. "Alright which one of you did it then? Who left that letter on my desk? Which of you has the nerve to demand that I leave 20,000 Francs in box five for you?" he glared at the crowed as though one of them would step forward and confess.

The staff members shifted about anxiously and Monsieur Reyer put a hand to his pallid face in a gesture of despair. Like Madame Giry, he was one of the oldest members of the staff. He knew and feared the Phantom more deeply than anyone else present. He had been in the orchestra pit on the day the chandelier came crashing down, it had landed just a few feet away from him, and he'd seen with his own eyes the dark shadow darting across the rafters with inhuman agility. He couldn't bring himself to believe that someone like that could drop dead a mere week later. The only reason he'd never resigned was because this place was all he knew, he didn't wish to search for another position at his age. It would be nearly impossible. He wrung his hands helplessly, but then he caught Madame Giry's eye, she was quite collected and she gazed at him calmly. He felt his moment of panic fade, a truly unflappable woman. She wasn't panicking and she never would, he admired that iron will and when she was nearby he always felt a little calmer. She lifted the corner of her lip in the barest hint of a smile and he returned it with a shaky one of his own, as long as Giry was calm he'd be just fine...just fine.

Luc and the rest of the crowed seemed completely unaware that anything had passed between the two senior members as Luc continued to rant about the letter and anyone having the audacity to do such a thing.

"For the love of _God_, this is extortion! I could turn someone over to the police for this!"

"So he's still here, just as we suspected. Except now he really is a ghost," said one of the crew members.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Luc nearly shouted, "This joke is wearing thin! Who is responsible for such ridiculousness?"

"The Phantom of the Opera," whispered one of the young dancers tremulously.

"What? That man's been dead for years; if you're trying to pull one over on me you're doing a poor job of it! I'm not a fool!" cried Luc

"You're a fool if you don't do as the note says," said Madam Giry leveling her gaze at him. She'd remained longer than all of the so called "managers" that had tried to fill Luc's current positions, if they didn't leave right away they bent to the Phantom's whims and lingered on for a few years, just the same, they never lasted to retirement, and the more time she spent around the one the more certain she grew that he would not remain past a month.

"Was it you? Surely a woman of your years knows better than to blackmail her employer," said Luc.

"Don't threaten me boy," Giry pointed her cane at Luc's chest, she tilted her chin up defiantly, daring him to contradict her, "I've been here since before you were born, and I know more about the Phantom than anyone else here, believe me when I say that he is very real. If you want to survive this job you'll do well to take my advice and do as he requests. If you don't he is sure to make you pay, perhaps with your life,"

Luc's fluster left him for a moment, but he gathered his nerve and refused to be cowed, "We'll see, I'm not some spineless coward and if this Phantom really does exist then I'm certain he is a man and not a ghost. I will find a way to be rid of him in the end,"

With that Luc stormed away, he motioned for Klara to follow him. Monsieur Reyer and Madam Giry exchanged glances, _Brace yourself_, they seemed to be saying to each other, _there's a storm not far ahead of us_.

...

_Hello me again,_

_ I promise not to litter this with to many author's notes, but I would like to inform you that I cannot confirm the accuracy of the lyrics for the famous "Jewel Song" from the Opera Faust by Charles Gounod. I do not speak French, I had to look up the lyrics and hope they were accurate. I have a sort of compulsion about making my fictional works as accurate as possible; if the story takes place during a certain time period I try to keep things true to a historic time line and Faust was an Opera that was reasonably popular during the late 18th century. Being that I am anal about accuracy I actually took the time to watch Faust and learn the names of the characters and write down a list of their vocal ranges from Marguerite's Soprano to Mephistopheles Bass. I also took the time to watch the Phantom of the Opera (2003) film, the only thing I'm taking from it is the film's interpretation of Madame Giry, as much as I liked the film and Andrew Lloyd Webber, I want nothing else from it. My main inspiration is the original novel and the Susan Kay version of the novel. _

_If any of my Princess and the Frog readers have wandered into this fic, I'm sorry, that fic is on hold for right now. I need to do more research on depression era New Orleans and watch the film again, I only saw it once, in the theater when it came out and don't trust myself to keep writing until I see it again. _

_Yes, I know this is a ridiculous amount of effort to put into Fanfiction, but it's summer vacation for me...and I'm bored out of my skull. _

_ I am still working on my grammar and punctuation, I will find someone to beta for me if I don't work that out myself, so hopefully the quality of this piece and my other works will improve for you. Until then, I'm truly very sorry to give you mediocre work._

_Cheers _

_Enos_

P.S. Please review...pretty please with sugar on top?_  
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	3. Chapter 3

Klara was given a room in the Opera house, courtesy of Luc Richard. Admittedly she would have preferred to rent an apartment as she found the small room in the dancers quarters a little dowdy. Sadly she did not have the funds to afford an apartment in Paris as of yet and she was not about to write home to her parents for money. As it was, she hadn't had much to do with her parents since she became an actress and singer. Life with them on their little farm had been so artlessly rustic and Klara had a taste for grander things. It wasn't that she didn't love her family or miss then from time to time. She just didn't feel that their life was what she wanted. She wanted fame, she wanted wealth. To be a meek and quiet farm girl who married and had children at a young age was good enough for her sisters, but not her. She had pursued a singing career against her father's wishes at the age of sixteen.

It hadn't started easily, she'd shuffled from theater to theater being rejected and denied most of the time. She'd begun at the bottom, in the chorus and most of her teen years she barely made ends meet. She remembered the times she'd been cold and hungry, But it had all been worth it. All the training and waiting. Now here she was ten years later at the Palais Garnier to play the lead role in the opera Faust. It was worth everything she had turned her back on. She seated herself in front of the small vanity at the back of the room. Carefully she began to remove the make-up she had so painstakingly applied that morning. She knew she was a beautiful woman, she did her best to make sure that was what other people saw too, perfection. Her skin lightly powdered and her eyes enhanced with kohl, a touch of rouge on her lips. All of her make-up done very subtly to accentuate her features, not cover them. Well, not cover most of them...

as the powder came away from her left temple a splash of pink showed itself, a birthmark. She frowned at it; it was a blemish she longed to be rid of. Even when she hid it under a layer of powder she was careful to tug her bangs over it. She would be flawless for her audience, flawless to see _and_ hear. It was what she worked for, and she certainly did work. She was careful of what she ate, careful of what she wore, and careful to practice her singing daily. When she had started she had been a slightly pudgy, awkward child of sixteen with an untrained warble that grated on the ears. It had taken a lot of hard work to make that creature disappear, but she had done it. She admired the woman who now stared back at her from the mirror, half her make-up gone and her curls starting to come out of her hair. So what if her perfect beauty was fake? All beauty was fake in its own way; a practiced smile, a schooled voice, her makeup and manner, all the same. If it pleased the crowd then good enough. They loved her false image and she loved their false adoration. She knew they loved the image, the painted doll that sang for them, the romance of it all as she stood perfect and unattainable on the stage for them. It didn't bother Klara one ounce that it was all a facade. She gave herself a knowing smile.

"People love to be lied too, it's much prettier than the truth,"

...

_How right you are_, thought the figure hidden away in the secret room on the other side of the wall. _Beautiful lies are easier to bear than the ugly truth, aren't you an astute little girl? _He watched her finish removing her artfully applied cosmetics, he didn't see that she needed them but then he understood that there was more to needing to hide ones true face than physical imperfection. This woman wasn't the innocent and naive girl she seemed at first sight and he appreciated such qualities. Innocence was only a euphemism for ignorance anyway. More often than not it was a poetic way to make youthful stupidity sound charming. The Phantom grinned beneath his mask, he'd been lurking around the building trying to come up with a plan for his grand exposition. Since the manager was throwing a gala he'd made plans to attend. He'd considered putting a quick clean end to this newest addition to the cast but he wasn't the sort of man who liked to kill needlessly, and after hearing her sing the piece from _Faust_ he had decided that she was suitable for the part of Marguerite. She was certainly the best performer out of that sorry cast they were currently using, that was for sure. It was a crime and a shame to waste talent; no, his issue was with the manager and if anyone was going to dance at the end of a noose it would be someone that wouldn't be missed.

He walked back up the passage at the end of the room until he was at the manager's office. The boy was there, he was bent intently over his bookkeeping, his face screwed up in concentration. Well, at least he seemed like a hard worker. Pity it would all come to naught by the time the Phantom was done with him. Perhaps he'd leave him one more letter just to give him a last chance...

...

It was nearly midnight by the time Luc took care of the ledger, throwing a gala was an expensive matter and he had to keep all the accounts up to date, the opera house was already on the edge of debt and Luc was all but wagering everything on the success of Klara's singing. He stretched and stood, it was late and he was tired. Any last matters he needed to tend could wait until morning. He walked to the door and removed his coat from the hook on the wall only to notice that there was a note inside it. How on earth had that happened? He hadn't had anything in the coat when he'd come in and he'd been in the room the whole time, if someone had come and slipped a note into his pocket he would have seen them.

_To my new Manager_

_I noticed that you have disrespectfully discarded my first letter. You are fortunate that I am a generous ghost and I do make allowances for young people to be arrogant and foolish. However, I have limited patience, consider this your second and final warning. I want my salary in box five by the end of the week, or I will take my payment in blood. I would advise you not to test me, others have done so in the past and suffered greatly for their folly. You have been adequately warned._

_Sincerely  
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_O.G_

Luc let out a frustrated growl and ripped the paper in half.

"Opera Ghost? I don't believe in the supernatural and you can take my word for it this blackmail won't stand!" he shouted. He wasn't going to be intimidated. There was no Phantom! That was impossible, who ever this man was he seemed to have everyone else fooled but Luc would have staked his life on it that the man responsible for this note was flesh and blood. "I won't be threatened by a lowlife like you! You won't even come out and face me like a man! Coward! You won't get a single Franc from me! Not so much as a Sous!" Luc continued to rant at his unseen tormentor for the better part of half and hour. He didn't know that anyone was actually listening...

...

From his secluded place just behind the far wall of the room the Phantom shook his head. _Well that was a waste of paper and ink,_ he thought. It seemed there was no hope, but he supposed The Phantom had been too quiet for too long to expect this new manager to take him seriously. It was a disappointing turn out, but not in anyway shocking. He supposed it never hurt a drama to end the first act with a murder. Now he just had to decide if it would be the manager, or someone else, these issues were very delicate after all. No details must be overlooked!


	4. Chapter 4

Arrangements for the Gala seemed to go off without a hitch. Everything was on schedule and not a detail was overlooked. In short, it was all going too smoothly. Luc found it strange that there wasn't even a hiccup in the arrangements. He had been expecting that a certain someone would sabotage the whole affair. But no, he watched the staff like a hawk and not one of them put a foot out of line. Not even Madame Giry...

That old woman was his prime suspect, she was the one who wanted him to mind the Phantom. She was the one who had stayed at the Opera Populair the longest. His theory was that she remained because she had nothing to fear, and she had nothing to fear because _she_ was the one behind everything. Well, he'd just keep an eye on her! Once he caught her slipping one of those blasted letters into his desk or coat then she'd be sorry!

But two weeks went by without so much as an argument between him and the old lady. Luc was almost disappointed, maybe she wasn't the Phantom...

...

Klara put the last finishing touches on her make-up and checked her gown to make sure not a thread was out of place. Satisfied that she was perfect she made her way out to the foyer, she knew that it was still almost a half hour to early for the Gala to begin but she was eager to start. All her life she'd thought about moments like these, her debut as an opera star, this magnificent gala. All of her hard work was paying off at long last.

The foyer was empty, save for three stage hands, who were putting the last of the decorations up. She noticed for the first time how very large this place was. The staircase she was descending was like something she would have expected from a grand castle, with its polished, marble and the red velvet carpet. The high domed ceiling with it's beautiful depictions of angels and cherubs seemed like a window to heaven itself. Whoever had made this place had loved it, had had an eye for beauty.

"Nice, innit?"

Klara turned around, a little chorus girl she hadn't noticed was standing behind her, watching her stare at the ceiling like an awestruck child.

"It's lovely," she replied trying to remain impassive. She would not blush in front of this girl.

The girl cocked her head, her short, brassy curls bouncing around her softly rounded face. She was a pretty thing, no older than twelve or thirteen and with a slim, sprightly figure. A perfect little ballerina. Big, dreamy blue eyes with long, heavy lashes only added to the picture.

"You're that new singer wot, everyone talks about ain't ya?" she said brightly, dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth. "My names Chloe,"

Klara was a little taken aback by the girls thick, colloquial accent but she couldn't help but be charmed by her earnestness. She returned the smile and held out her hand.

"I'm Klara Hauer, it's nice to meet you" she said.

Chloe shook her hand enthusiastically, "You're a nice lady, I think I likes you, I do! So I'll tell you a secret!" she said.

Klara raised her eyebrows, "Oh? And what secrets do you have for me then?" she asked, amused.

"There are ghosts in this opera house!" Chloe whispered, then she giggled and dashed away before Klara could question her.

"What a funny girl..." Klara muttered as she watched her retreat. "Ghosts in the Opera house," she shook her head. "This Phantom, certainly has everyone convinced he's real."

A quiet but very deep, male chuckled echoed around her. She whirled around to find the source, turning her gaze to the stagehands. Not one of them gave any indication that they'd heard the sound. One noticed her staring and turned his head to face her. His face was mostly concealed by the collar of his coat and his cap. Klara suddenly felt uneasy. She didn't believe in ghosts...but she had a sudden sinking feeling that tonight was going to end badly...

...

The Gala started successfully, there was drinking and dancing, a speech or two was made, thus far everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Luc very nearly forgot about the letters and the Phantom. Nothing was going wrong and he was certain things would finish as smoothly as they began. It was at that moment all the lights went out. Every candle went out, every gas light extinguished. The room went still for a moment then the din of startled and angry people swelled and seemed to engulf Luc.

"No one panic! I'm sure it's just a mechanical error or something, we'll just relight all the lights and get back to the celebration," he cried in an attempt to regain control of the situation. The crowed quieted, pacified for the moment but then a dark, thunderous voice rang from the ceiling.

"_Insolent boy! You have failed to meet my demands and now you must pay for your defiance_!"

The crowd began to panic again. Some were frightened, the rest angry.

"What's the meaning of this?"

"It's the Phantom!"

"What's going on?"

"He's going to kill someone!"

Suddenly a smoking figure rose up behind the Opera Populair's young manager. Luc stumbled back. The man wore a dark cloak and an ivory mask, this was not Madam Giry...there was no way that the ominous figure before him could be that old woman.

Before Luc could get away the specter produced a noose from his cloak and flung it at the young man. Luc felt the rope tighten around his neck but before he strangled to death some of the men in the crowed rushed forward and the Phantom disappeared in a flash of light.

There was a sudden, second flash of light all the way on the other end of the room and the Phantom reappeared. _Impossible_! Luc thought He was just here, that second flash was almost simultaneous with the first. He must have traveled thirty feet in the span of two seconds! With a swirl of his cloak and a burst of deep, booming laughter the Phantom disappeared. Leaving the guests and Luc alone with their fear and confusion.

...

From his hidden vantage point in one of the many secret passages the Phantom watched as everyone settled down and the lights were relit. The whole incident had happened in less than five minutes but the effect was better than he had hoped. That silly boy was trembling and white as a sheet. Adjusting his cloak and mask he returned to his lair...by tomorrow evening there would be 20,000 Francs waiting for him in box five! He was certain of it.

...

Klara was among the last to leave. So there was a phantom after all. She didn't want to think he was a real ghost, but she had never seen anything like it, one minute he was at one end of the room and within the next second he simply appeared at the other. She'd never seen a magician perform such a trick in all her life!

"That were a smart trick that Phantom did weren't it?"

Klara glanced over her shoulder and saw little Chloe standing there with her hands behind her back, she was wearing a blue little gown of her own that made her look like a princess from a fairytale. Klara smiled.

"What are you doing here? And what do you know about this Phantom?" she asked.

Chloe grinned impishly, "I know a little about a lot I do, I'm smarter'n I look...'n I can do a few tricks of my own!" she said.

"Oh really?" Klara leaned forward interested, "What tricks?" she asked.

Chloe thought for a minute. "This!" she said doing a backward hand spring and an impressive series of summersaults before landing nimbly on her feet.

Klara clapped, "That's very good!" she said, the girl had a brightness and charm to her that was hard to resist, that coupled with her pretty looks would get her far in life.

"I can do more than just that but you can't see it all yet, I'm savin' the big tricks," she said. With that she did a back flip and to Klara's surprise she vanished into the shadows.

"Chloe? Where have you gone? Chloe?" she called.

"Who are you talking to?" a different chorus girl called out as she came down the stair to stand beside Klara.

"There was a girl, Chloe, she is a young chorus girl like you isn't she?"

The young woman frowned. "No Mademoiselle, I don't think anyone by that name is staying here."

Klara frowned. "But she was just here, surely someone knows her," she described Chloe to the young woman.

"No, there is no one here by that name or description. I would know if there was, I've been here for four years and I know all the girls," replied the woman.

Klara stared at the place Chloe had been just before she'd vanished. She recalled what the girl had said earlier. _There are ghosts in this opera house..._Ghosts...plural. Could it be that this place truly was haunted?


	5. Chapter 5

After all the chaos of the evening had died down Luc went to his office to rest and collect his thoughts. He didn't want to give in to those outrageous demands! But he had to admit that what he had seen had unnerved him. It had to be some sort of trick! An illusion of some kind, but when he'd conducted a thorough search for the culprit he didn't find a trace of evidence that there had been any way for this man to pull it off. He'd found no passages or trapdoors that the Phantom could have slipped through, so how had he done it? Luc didn't know, but he wouldn't be pushed around by this so-called Opera Ghost! He'd worked to long and to hard to get where he was and damned if he'd flop over for this!

The closer he got to his office the more and more confidant he became that he could endure this situation. So the Phantom had shown up and done a few theatrical tricks! He hadn't done any damage in the end and Luc didn't think he was going to be so bold again. He would _not _give in to this black mail! He entered his nice, formal and tidy office and to his surprise there was someone sitting in his chair. Luc squinted, it appeared to be one of the stagehands. Luc was about to angrily demand to know what he was doing there when he noticed the strange angle of the man's neck. As he moved closer he could clearly see that the man's neck was broken, he was also dressed in Luc's finest clothes. A knot formed in the pit of the young manager's stomach when he realized that this was not a random killing, when he looked at the dead man's face he realized that the poor, unfortunate young man resembled himself, sporting a similar goatee and having hair and eyes of the same color. Luc knew that this was a warning to him, a last warning to head the Phantom or he would sorely regret it.

In the corpses open mouth was stuffed a piece of crumpled parchment. With a shaking hand Luc removed it and opened it.

_I expect 20,000 Franc's and for box five to be left empty. _

_OG_

Luc nearly fell as he rushed to his desk to fill out a check for 20,000 Francs.

...

Klara was quite confused by it all, everyone seemed to know about this Phantom of the Opera but no one wanted to tell her much. Yet not a single person had ever heard of Chloe. It was as if she was the only one who had ever seen or heard the young girl. Not even Madam Giry who seemed to know more about what was going on than any one else...

"But surely someone knows of this girl!" Klara said as she sat in Madame Giry's quarters and let the older woman serve her tea.

"No one, I have seen one or two girls by that name in my time here at the opera house, but none so young as you claim this one to be, and none who match the appearance you describe," said Madam Giry taking a seat across from Klara and helping herself to a cup of tea.

"I've seen her twice now, she was dressed in the same clothes as the ballerinas here and she said that there were ghosts in this opera house,"

"Ghosts? Not just one ghost?" Madam Giry raised her thin brows and peered over her cup.

"Yes, ghosts. Some people are saying you have some history with the Phantom, would you tell me what you know of all this?" asked Klara.

"I know less than I thought," Madam Giry frowned, her wrinkled brow twisting with confusion. "I knew the Phantom, I saw him do amazing things that seemed as if they were true magic, but never before had he done anything like the disappearing and reappearing I saw at the Gala, also, the Phantom was a man when I knew him. He would be rather old by now if he was still alive, I am not one to believe in ghosts but I have never seen anyone do that sort of impossible trick before, and now you mention this Chloe. There is more to this than even I had anticipated."

"So you don't have answers for me either," Klara sighed unhappily.

"I'm afraid not child, but I know someone who might..." Madam Giry replied. "You'll excuse me dear, but I think I should write a letter to a friend,"

...

"Raoul I'm going to Paris!" Christine Daae De Chagny's tone brooked no arguments from her husband.

"Darling, please reconsider! You don't want to get wrapped up in all this Opera Ghost nonsense again do you?" The Vicomte De Chagny tried to appeal to his wife but she ignored him.

"Someone has to stop Erik! I'm the only one who knows him, I can get through to him so I'm going!" Christine insisted.

"But I thought Erik was dead," Raoul knew he was losing, but he also knew that it would be irresponsible of him to let his wife return to Paris to confront a madman and a murderer.

"The papers _said_ he was dead but you know he's more than clever enough to have faked it," came the terse reply.

"Christine, I don't like the idea of you going back there with him! You know he's not completely sane! He might harm you!"

"Erik would never hurt me. I just need to talk to him, before things get any worse, Madame Giry said in her letter that she doesn't understand what's going on, I think something's wrong with poor Erik," said Christine.

"_Poor Erik_?" Raoul was incredulous, "How can you say that? After all he's done! If he's in trouble he's brought it on himself! Be reasonable!" he said, his voice cracking as it rose in pitch.

"You don't know him like I do!" Christine said sharply.

And with that statement Raoul knew he had lost, Christine would go to Paris with or without his consent. Ten years after the fact and she still seemed to have lingering feelings for her "Angel of Music" and she would not be persuaded to keep away from him.

"Then let me come with you, I don't feel right about you facing him all alone," pleaded Raoul.

Christine shook her head, "No, Raoul, you should stay here and take care of things while I'm gone, I'll be alright, Erik won't hurt me,"

Raoul nodded miserably and allowed her to kiss him before she walked out the door. When she had gone he picked up Madam Giry's letter and read it.

"..._The Opera Ghost had learned some new tricks in the past years, no one can explain his last feat. He appeared at one end of the room, disappeared and a mere second later re-appeared thirty feet away. It's like nothing I've seen him do before, not in all the years I've been here, please come back and speak to him, I fear things are not well_..."

He skimmed the rest of the note for anything of importance before tossing it aside. Damn Madam Giry for sending for Christine, what right did the old woman have to disrupt his comfortable life after ten years? Ten years of quiet, peaceful, normal married life in the country with his loving wife and now this upstart. It was almost upsetting! Damn Erik too! This was all his fault!

...

Christine arrived at the opera less than two days after leaving her home and she introduced herself to the manger.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Monsieur Richard," she held out a delicate hand for him to shake.

Luc was in awe, the famed Christine Daae was here, at his opera house. And she was just as beautiful as all of the rumors said! Frail and delicate looking with pale skin contrasting her dark curls and her deep, dark eyes, he imagined that she'd look just wonderful on his stage. Although she hadn't said anything about singing again he couldn't imagine any other reason she'd come...until she shattered his ambitious fantasies gave him one.

"Madame Giry said that you were having trouble with the Phantom of the Opera," she said. "I came to see if I could help, I knew him from when I studied here,"

Luc found himself slightly disappointed, so she wouldn't be singing after all..."Well, if you can get rid of him," he said with a half-hearted shrug.

"I think I can reason with him if I can just talk to him, but I must be allowed to do so in private, do you understand?" Christine asked.

Luc frowned at her, he didn't much like the idea of her talking to a dangerous killer all on her own. "Are you sure that's wise? He did leave a dead man in my office, I'm sure Madam Giry told you as much,"

"She mentioned it in her letter, yes," said Christine.

"And you want to be alone with him," Luc narrowed his eyes, that didn't sound like a good plan to him.

"I know him better than anyone, but he won' t talk to me unless I go to him alone," she insisted.

Luc sighed and shook his head but a moment later he relented. "Alright, but be it on your own head, Madam, he is a dangerous man!" he said.

"I know, but I believe I can stop him, just trust me," she said. "Now, when is the nest show? I know he'll be in box five all alone, I'll speak with him then."

...

About a week after the night of the Gala, The Phantom took his seat in box five and waited for the show to start. He'd already spend some of the money from his check on two fine new suits and two equally nice pairs of boots. The purchase had been an expensive one but he thought it well worth it. His old clothes were getting so ragged around the edges and it was nice to be in style again. Just because he had to hide his face didn't mean that he had to dress like a pauper. He settled back in the velvet seat with a sigh of contentment and watched the curtain rise, it was so good to be doing something with his life again!

A sudden rustling of the curtain caught his attention. Who the hell dared interrupt him now? To his surprise it was a woman, a small woman with long, brown, curling hair and big doe-like brown eyes. She didn't seem the least bit afraid of him for she sat down in the seat right beside him, he was so startled by this behavior that he could do nothing more but sit and stare at her through the eye holes of his mask with his hands tightly clutching the armrests.

When she spoke to him he realized that his plans were on the brink of falling apart, for when she spoke she said very clearly:

"Hello Erik, it's been a long time since we've seen each other,"

Erik...if she knew that the Phantom was called Erik then this could only be Christine Daae. The Phantom knew that if he opened his mouth to speak to her then his game was up.

...

The Phantom's shock came as no surprise to Christine, after all he hadn't heard from her in ten years and had never expected to see her again. So when he didn't respond to her she wasn't at all suspicious. She leaned forward and put her hand on his, as soon she touched him though, she realized that something was very wrong.

The hand under hers was not thin, cold and skeletal, rather it was large and muscular with thick callous on the joints, looking down on it she saw that even in the dim light of the box the man's skin was several shades darker than hers. She slowly looked up to his masked face and saw blue eyes staring back at her. _Blue, not yellow..._

"_You're not Erik..."_

_..._

_So if you're reading up to this point you must have liked the story up till now, I have a feeling that I'll either keep my readers or lose them with this little plot twist but I promise that there will be explanations later, so please just keep reading and I'd really love it if you left me your comments_

_Cheers_

_~Enos_


	6. Chapter 6

Before Christine could react the Phantom grabbed her, putting a hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream.

"Don't make a sound or I'll break your neck!" he hissed.

Christine froze, through her terror a thought made its way to the surface of her mind. _Did this mean that Erik was truly dead?_. She found herself being hauled, none-to-gently into a passage. Whoever this new Phantom was he knew his way around Erik's tunnels and corridors. Finally he took her down to the lake.

"Get in the boat!" he snarled, "Don't try anything funny either!"

Christine obeyed, at that moment she would have given anything to see Erik again, perhaps she should have listened to Raoul and stayed home. There was no knowing what this man was going to do to her.

As The Phantom rowed he wondered what he was going to do with this woman. Killing her was out of the question, considering who she was and what her history at this opera meant that would be the worst thing he could do. He'd have to hold her hostage until he could come up with a plan...

...

"What do you mean she's vanished?"

A vein throbbed in Luc's cheek as he shouted at Madame Giry, who was seated in a chair in his office.

"I mean just what I said, she's gone, disappeared from box five and The Phantom with her," Madame Giry was not unduly worried, this had happened before and she was nearly certain that Christine and Erik were fine.

"WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU SO CALM WOMAN?" Luc bellowed. "If this gets to the papers I'll be ruined! Don't you understand? The press is looking for me to fail this job because I'm the youngest manager in the history of the Palais Garnier! This sort of cock-up is just what they want and if it leaks then I'm done for!" he sank into his chair and buried his face in his hands. "How could it all have gone wrong so quickly?"

"I wouldn't worry so much, Erik would not harm Christine," said Madame Giry.

"Are you certain?" Luc gave her a hopeful look.

"I am quite sure that all will be fine," she said.

"I hope your right, I don't think I can take it if the famous Christine Daae were to die in this opera house while I was the manager," said Luc. "I want to see this through to the end, I'm not going to quit by any means, this opera house is to important to me. I knew that this would be a hard job, business was bad and the Palaise Garnier was on the brink of ruin when I came here but I'm doing everything I can to change that. Now that this Phantom is interfering I don't know what I'm going to do,"

"Are you going to proceed with tonight's show?" Madame Giry asked.

"Of course, I'm going to keep going with this until the end," said Luc, "Even if it's doomed to fail, the shows must go on, Klara must sing and I will keep up with the expenses and the revenue until I can't anymore."

Madame Giry tilted her head and gave him an appraising look. She had at first thought him a foolish, ambitious boy who was only concerned with his reputation and the money he could make from managing the Opera Populair, but he seemed as if he was genuinely interested in the opera house's success, not just for his own gain but for the sake of the Palais Garnier. Perhaps she had been wrong about him.

"You care about this opera then, Monsieur?"

"How could I not? Just look at it! This opera house is the most magnificent building I've ever seen, I first saw it as a child and ever since then I knew it had to become part of my life. It is a thing of beauty that no other theatre or opera house can match, it cannot simply fall to ruin and be forgotten, I won't let it!" said the young man, his face full of earnestness that bordered on child-like.

It was at that moment that Madame Giry was struck by how truly young Luc was, he may have been ambitious and business minded when if came to his work, but he still believed with his whole heart that if he worked hard enough he would triumph in the end. In a way, he reminded her of Meg. Her daughter was now married and living happily with her husband outside of Paris.

"I see, well, I can assure you that Erik will not harm Christine," she said.

"You seem so certain, how well do _you_ know Erik?" asked Luc.

"It's a long story, and I am old and tired and today is not the day to tell, it," said Madame Giry, "But I hope you can feel a little more at ease now, and I will bid you goodnight," she rose from her seat and took her cane in hand. Then she walked out the door and left Luc alone.

The young Manager sighed and turned to his bookkeeping, he could only hope that Madame Giry was not mistaken about this Phantom, Erik.

...

When he heard in the newspapers that The Phantom of the Opera had seemingly risen from the grave, Nadir Khan, former police chief, or _Daroga_, as he was called in Persia, knew that he had to go back to Paris to see what was going on. Erik had been quiet for ten years, he'd given up being the Phantom after Christine had left and Nadir hadn't heard from him since. He'd assumed that Erik had either left the country or died. But something was amiss here. He knew he had to investigate, even so he was long retired, he was as sharp as ever and he knew that there had to be a reason for the Phantom to reappear like this, he just had to find out what.

...

Luc was a bit surprised when the Daroga showed up, but when he heard the man's story he eagerly invited him into his office so that Nadir could explain everything...

"I have some suspicions about this Phantom, Erik was my friend you see, I knew him better than even Madam Giry. It stated in the papers that the Phantom pulled some sort of disappearing trick, correct?" asked Nadir.

"Yes, I'd never seen anything like it, one second he was at one side of the room, the next he was at the other," said Luc.

"That would be a difficult feat to pull off, but it wouldn't have shocked me if Erik had done it..._twenty years ago_," said the Persian.

"You don't think he could pull it off today?" asked Luc,

"No, when last I saw him he was over fifty, and he was suffering heart troubles. It is not likely that today he would be able to do anything that requires so much energy,"

"So what are you saying?" asked Luc, dreading the answer.

"I do not think this Phantom is Erik,"

"Then who could he be?"

"I do not know, but I would like your permission to stay here in Paris and conduct and investigation," said Nadir. He watched the color drain from the younger man's face.

"Who ever he is, he has the Vicomtess De Chagny," said Luc, "Madame Giry said that Erik would not kill her but if this man is not Erik..." he couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence.

Nadir frowned, "There's no telling what he'll do, we have to go down there," he said.

"Down where?" cried Luc,

"The Phantom's lair, I know the way, as long as he hasn't changed the traps I can get us down there, but bring a pistol, there's no telling what he'll do if he catches us," replied the Daroga.

"Shouldn't we summon the police?" cried Luc,

"I don't think we should waste anymore time, besides, I may be able to guide you down safely but there's no way I can ensure that a whole group of people will make it to the lair alive,"

"My God, what if we get there to late?"

"Pray we don't, now follow me,"

...

Luc stayed close to Nadir as he lead him down through the basement of the opera house.

"Put your hand to the level of your eyes, some of Erik's left over lasso traps may still work, he was a master craftsman and I doubt a mere ten years will have been long enough to disable them," cautioned Nadir.

Luc quickly did as he was told and looked nervously from side to side, expecting at any moment for a noose to wrap itself around his neck.

"How did this new Phantom get down here with all these traps...he is down here right? You're not just assuming that he's using Erik's old hideout instead of a different one right?"

"I believe he's down here, after all, a trick like the one he pulled surely makes use of the secret passages,"

"You believe...You don't actually _know?" _Luc hissed he was starting to get a little irritated with the whole thing.

"Well, no one can be certain, it's just the best lead we have," said Nadir matter-of-factly.

Luc sighed, why could things never go as well as he hoped? They continued walking down the passage until suddenly Nadir signaled for him to stop.

"The floor's given way ahead of us...we can't go down through here," he said.

"What? Then how do we-"

"We don't, this was the only tunnel Erik trusted me to know about and I wouldn't dare try any of the other passages, " he lifted his head and looked about, he had a sudden strange feeling that they weren't alone. "Perhaps we should leave, now," he motioned for the boy to follow him but a rope suddenly coiled around his arm.

Quickly Luc raised his pistol in the direction the rope had sprung from. The flash illuminated the darkness just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the Phantom off to the side in the shadows. His second shot rewarded him with a deep, male, cry and the slackening of the rope around Nadir's arm.

"I shot him!" Luc cried triumphantly.

Nadir was already running over to inspect the limp figure. The bullet had cracked the Phantom's mask but it seemed it had just grazed his temple. The man was already stirring, having only been stunned. Thinking quickly Nadir tied him up with the rope. "We should take him to your office and question him. Find out what he did with Madame De Chagny."

"Should we call the police yet?" Luc asked, while he was worried that this might lead to bad publicity, he didn't want to think that any further negligence to communicate with outside parties might end in tragedy for one of the opera's greatest stars.

"No, all they'll do is arrest him and lock him up, we may need him if Christine is still alive. The Parisian police mean well but likely the most that will happen is that he'll be hanged and we may never find Madame De Chagny," explained Nadir.

"Lovely, we can't keep him tied up in the office forever," said Luc.

"We'll turn him over to the police as soon as we find out what happened to Christine," Nadir said as he hauled the bound man up, "Hold his legs and help me carry him, he's nearly twice as heavy as Erik was..."

...

Once they got him into the office Nadir removed the broken mask, and with it came a black wig. The, thick. gently curling, light blond hair that spilled out made Luc think at first that he was a white man but when he looked more closely at the face he noticed that this man's skin was a little to dark. His nose, lips and cheekbones gave the impression that he may have had Indian or Arabic ancestry.

Nadir looked him over, "Luc, look here, he's got an earring, and he's wearing a Gypsy talisman,". He held up a necklace so that Luc could examine the charm.

"So he's a Gypsy?"

"No, he's a half-breed, my guess is that he was tolerated by a band of Gypsies, for a time, but never really accepted as one of their own," Nadir checked the ropes to make sure he was tied down tightly. The man was beginning to regain his senses and he struggled a bit.

"Stop moving or things will be worse for you!" the Daroga snapped.

"You don't know who you're dealing with!" the man growled, "you'll pay if you don't let me go!"

"Are you going to tell us what you've done with the Vicomtess De Chagny?" Nadir folded his arms and glared down at the man.

"She's not dead, but you'll never find her," replied the man, "I won't tell you anything,"

Nadir's expression turned grim, "Luc...I'd like you to step out side so I can interrogate him properly,"

Luc turned pale and hurried out so that the Persian could get to business. Once the young man had left Nadir turned to the bound man in the chair. "Now...let's see how long you feel like staying quiet," he said.

...

While Luc waited outside he could hear the sound of heavy thumping and deep male grunts coming from with in his office, every so often there would be a pause and Nadir would ask a question, The Phantom would laugh respond venomously in a language that Luc didn't recognize but would have placed as Eastern European. This went on for some time when finally Nadir emerged., closing the door behind him.

"He's unconscious, I don't think he's going to break," he said to Luc.

"What do we do now?"

"Keep trying, if he doesn't tell us where Christine is then we'll hand him over to the police,"

Luc frowned and opened his mouth to ask a question but his words died in his throat when he saw the Phantom stroll right past them on the other side of the hall.

"W-what?" Nadir's jaw dropped, it was the same man, same hair, same clothes but there wasn't a scratch on him. He grinned and winked at the Daroga before he took off down the hall.

"After him!" Nadir shouted pulling Luc along to give the chase. That was impossible! Not even Erik could have pulled off such a feat. As he ran after The Phantom he tried to work out how this trick could have been accomplished. He had just left him tied up in that room! There was no way he'd had time to...

He skidded to a halt as everything became clear to him. "Get back to the room! Hurry!" he said.

"What? But he's going to escape!"

"Let's hope he hasn't already!"

"That doesn't make sense!"

Nadir ran back to the office and threw open the doors, The Phantom was gone. "Dammit!" he groaned, "I should have guessed when you told me about the disappearing trick he pulled at the Gala,"

"What's going on? Why wasn't he injured?" asked Luc.

"Because the wasn't the same man, this whole time our Phantom has been two men. Twins!" Nadir sank into the chair. "I don't know why I didn't figure it out, I've seen tricks like that at carnivals where a magician would use a double to make it seem like he was in two places at once," he said.

"So our Phantom...is actually Phantoms," said Luc.

"And now that we know their secret, they'll come after us."

"Is it time to call the police yet?" asked Luc, his tone a hopeful one.

"Somehow I don't think even the police can help us now..."


End file.
